


hospital beds aren't beds

by AmygDalin



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Medical Procedures, Other, Paperhat - Freeform, Slight Humor, black hat is Somewhat Qualified™, its paperhat but also one big happy villain family, lab accident, like barely - Freeform, somehow lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmygDalin/pseuds/AmygDalin
Summary: Flug gets hurt. Black Hat fixes him and monologues about hospital beds, clocks, and IV drips.





	hospital beds aren't beds

**Author's Note:**

> shit description? no problem! just fix it w an even shittier title :)  
> also baby's first villainous fanfic. be easy on me please. also i wrote this at 12:30am bc i have no self control so please forgive any mistakes that are here. i blame the paperhat discord for this.

It was well past midnight. The moon shone little light on the darkened corner of the room, even with as big as a window there was that existed on one of the grand walls of the room.

In said corner, there was an IV drip and a bed. Not just any bed, no, no; it was a hospital bed--not even a bed. More like a cot. Calling hospital beds “beds” was too generous, as hospital beds were itchy, uncomfortable, and in no way, shape, or form resembled a bed--much like cots.

Yes, it was a cot, and on the cot rested a frail figure, asleep, laying on their side, legs and arms curled slightly in towards themself. A thin blanket did nothing to ward away the soft chattering of the person’s teeth. It was perhaps a little too cold in the room. Surely the absence of moonlight didn't help their case of the shivers. But no one else wanted to move to help the person. They were too afraid of missing something important.

Ah. Speaking of people.

A woman--no, a young woman, didn't look much older than her twenties, perhaps (and that was being generous) with wild pink and lime green hair and an obnoxious lizard hoodie to match was sleeping, laying on her side, back against a larger bear-like animal with blue fur and an odd little flower bobbing around his head. The bear creature was also fast asleep, and his paw--arm?--laid across the woman’s middle, in some sort of recreation of a cuddle. Both rested near the wall to the right of the cot.

The only individual who was awake in the room was that of a demon. One who insisted on wearing a damn top hat every day of his life for fear of appearing anything short of put together and wealthy. He was poised on a chair next to the cot, on the left of the cot, though his posture wasn't nearly as proud as it usually was; it seemed almost weighed down, his shoulders drooping and back hunched over the cot. His monocle was half hidden in the shadows, and his head was bowed. His uncovered eye was studying the figure on the bed, slightly narrowed, and even he, for as powerful and immortal as he was, was finding himself fending off sleep. His lips were pressed together in a thin, worried line.

He could hear everything in the room. The breathing of the others, the clock ticking away the minutes and hours on the wall, the dripping of the IV slightly to the left of him. It annoyed him to no end. It also worried him that the shortest breath in the room was that of his beloved scientist. Said scientist rested on the cot.

Breaths passed. The clock ticked. The IV dripped. The girl huffed out a small sigh in her slumber, shifted closer the bear, shivered twice, and fell back into her deep sleep. The demon’s eye traveled to rest on the paper-bag-and-goggle covered face of his scientist. Part of the bag was ripped and burned. 

Flug. _Doctor_ Flug. The most brilliant scientist that Black Hat could ever hope of receiving. Yet, he had no other way of showing his appreciation for the scientist than with his abrasive self.

Black Hat hated himself for it. 

He scowled. That clock was infernally loud.

Flug was brilliant, but that didn't mean that he'd be able to stop accidents before they happened. 

Such as the one that left Flug in such a dire condition that occurred just that day.

Something had exploded, and Black Hat knew that explosions were normal at the manor, but this one had been so extreme it had rattled the walls and caused a few windows to break. It hadn't been Demencia or 5.0.5, for both had poked their heads around the corner curiously when they heard Black Hat storm out of his office. He could hear them both following behind him, being oddly silent for once.

So he was on his way to the lab, to yell at Flug for being so damn careless, but he had stopped short at the sight of the wreckage of the once intact lab.

Almost immediately, Black Hat could smell human blood, and his shoulders had hiked up as an unfamiliar feeling of fear flashed through him. Demencia and 5.0.5 had followed him to the lab, and both must've either seen or smelled how upset Black Hat was because they both were immediately tugging and pulling and scratching at the rubble of the lab to get in until Demencia’s fingers bled and 5.0.5’s claws split.

And finally, when Black Hat finally snapped out of it, he yelled at them both to get back, you idiots, before you hurt yourself further because I can only afford to heal so many of you per week, damn it, and he shifted until he was some giant eldrich horror to pull back the chunks of concrete and bars of rebar so they all three could slip in to find Flug.

Lo and behold, there laid Flug, covered in rubble and clutching at a deep wound in his side, coughing and gasping weakly. The blood from his side seemed perfectly content to keep flowing heavily, no matter how hard Flug pressed on the wound. The moment Black Hat could smell the life beginning to slowly leave Flug, he acted without thinking, shifting back into his regular self and kneeling to gather the scientist into his arms almost tenderly, afraid of jostling him too much. 

Flug was nearly unconscious, but he managed to warble out a choppy, “Sorry, boss”, his brows creased in mild concern. Was he apologizing for the destruction of the lab, or the mess, or for forcing all three of the others to come rescue him, or was it a combination of all three? Black Hat didn't know, he didn't care to find out, and his main concern then was getting Flug to his bedroom and to the med center in the corner that was set up for only the most important situations, such as this. 

Black Hat only responded with a growl of, “Shut your mouth. You're wasting energy,” and, if by some sort of perverted timing that the universe itself probably thought was funnier than hell, Flug passed out in his arms at that point, too weak to even keep himself awake.

Humans were so fragile.

Wordlessly, Demencia and 5.0.5 followed closely behind Black Hat as he transported Flug to his bedroom and to the medical corner (the medical corner existed because they couldn't bloody well go to a hospital when they got hurt; they were _villains_ , for christ’s sake, and besides that, Black Hat was _well_ versed within the medical field, thank you very little); they assisted in stripping Flug (though they respecting the need of Flug’s paper bag and left it alone, once they saw that Flug wasn't affected there) and cleaning the wound, and they assisted with bringing the necessary materials and tools that he would need to suture the wound and bandage it as well as any other cuts or contusions. Then, after Flug was hooked to the IV, they all took their spots around the cot and began their wait for Flug to wake up.

Tick. Drip. Sigh. Tick. Drip. Sigh.

It seemed to be a never ending pattern. Always the same: the clock, the IV, the breathing. At some point, Black Hat removed his coat and draped it over Flug, which lessened the shivering by an immense degree.

Black Hat let out a low, displeased noise, and he gently reached for Flug’s hand, bare of the rubber gloves he usually wore (one had partially melted onto his skin, and _that_ had been a nightmare of cleaning up and bandaging). The IV needle was nestled safely in the crook of his elbow, held in place by neat strips of medical tape (Black Hat’s doing; he wasn't about to let Demencia put the IV in and potentially risk popping one of Flug’s veins in the process). 

“Flug. You're an idiot.” A pause. Black Hat lightly pressed his lips to the back of Flug’s hand as his eye fluttered shut. “Don't you _ever_ do this to me again,” he added, his voice hushed.

Minutes passed.

Tick. Drip. Sigh.

“¿ _J-jefecito_?” 

Black Hat immediately sat up. That was new. He glanced, surprised, down at Flug, who was now semi conscious. He narrowed his eye. “You're awake,” was all he could come up with. 

Flug hesitated, then he questioned, his voice gravelly and barely audible, “Where are we?”

“My room.” Black Hat slowly lowered Flug’s hand, yet he kept it in his grasp. “You need to rest.”

He was sure that Flug was asleep, for he didn't respond for a good few minutes, but he surprised Black Hat by saying, “Thank you.”

Black Hat only rolled his visible eye, but he couldn't help but feel warmly towards the doctor. “You need to drink more. Finding that vein for the IV was a pain in the--”

“You're tired.” Flug lifted his hand to cup his trembling hand against Black Hat’s cheek. “And cold.”

The demon was taken back by this rather bold movement from the doctor. Any other day, he wouldn't have let this slide. He was speechless, but Black Hat sighed softly and tilted his head slightly into Flug’s hand. “I’m not flesh and blood like you, Flug,” he murmured.

“Noted.” A small, almost teasing lilt to this one word had Black Hat scowling at the doctor.

“ _Sleep_ , Flug.”

Not even a minute later was Flug out cold once more, though, this time, he was snoring. 

The next morning, Black Hat awoke to being tucked against a sleeping Flug. On the other side rested Demencia, drooling slightly, and at the foot of the cot, 5.0.5 slept, belly up, kicking his legs and whimpering in his dreams as he dreamt about chasing cats in the alleyways.


End file.
